Prometheus Bound
by Fate8
Summary: The heroes finally gather to run Prometheus down. Violence and mayhem will surely ensue. Reviews always appreciated! Chapter 3 up.
1. Chapter 1

_This is another Prometheus story. Some readers have been clamoring for my boy's head. Hope you get some satisfaction from this one. These solo Prometheus stories run in series. If you want the whole lowdown on what I'm trying to do with the character, take a peek at the others. If not, get what you can out of this one. Thanks._

Storm clouds had gathered over Gotham City. Thunder rumbled and lightning flashed in the distance. A fair breeze moved into the city off of the ocean, stirring my cape. I took a deep breath, and glanced around one last time. The last thing I needed was for Gotham's grim guardian to show up before I had completed this one small job.

I stood atop an old building. A pathetic figure swathed in bandages and wearing a trench coat lay huddled at my feet. He was in a lot of pain at the moment, because I had beaten him senseless over the course of the past hour. I had inflicted at least three broken ribs, a concussion and a busted femur. All in a day's work, really. I looked down at him again.

"Stop your sniveling, Hush," I said, the contempt dripping from my voice. "You don't tell the Society to piss off when they ask you to join and hope to keep your miserable life." I stepped down hard on the fallen man's hand, and heard the faint crack of breaking bones. The man known as Hush whimpered and cradled his useless fingers to his body.

"How in seven hells did you ever give Batman so much trouble?" I asked, and shrugged when no answer came. "It doesn't matter. You're going to die now, and all of your plans will have been for nothing." I extended my arm, and pointed a gleaming gauntlet at his head.

"Wait," said Hush. "I have money. Five million dollars to spare my life."

"Really?" I said. I brought my arm back up to a ninety degree angle. "Do you have it on you?"

"No, but I can get it." The faint light of hope blossomed in his eyes, one of which was nearly swollen shut.

"Ah, well," I said. "Too bad I'm on a tight schedule." I slowly lowered the gauntlet back down toward his head. Watching that hope in his eyes die was worth this whole wretched trip. I triggered my gauntlet, and a dart plunged into his neck.

"I know you're a doctor and all," I said, "so you'll appreciate this." Hush convulsed as pain racked his body. "A little fast-acting virus I cooked up. It is sort of like Ebola on crack." Hush began to make strange gurgling sounds, and blood began to leak from his eyes. "It liquefies your organs in about forty-five seconds," I said. "I hear it's pretty painful." Hush arched his back, nearly coming off the ground. A strangled, fluid scream passed his lips, not loud enough to draw any attention. "That must have been the liver," I said. I squatted down on my heels to get a closer look at the final moments. "You know," I said to the dying man, "I never whacked a bad guy before. It's not nearly as much fun."

I watched until the quivering red mass of what was once a man lay still and dead. I stood and turned, fingering the Cosmic Key chained around my neck. Glancing around at the dark spires of Gotham, I sighed heavily, clicked the Key, and went home.

I materialized inside of my house deep inside the Ghost Zone. I dropped my helmet and nightstick on a crooked table and walked over to the fridge. Electricity is difficult to get in the Ghost Zone. What was I going to do, run a cable in from Metropolis? If I wanted power, I had to use self-contained sources. The refrigerator ran on technology I had pilfered from Captain Cold. I opened the door, and reached for an icy brew. As I did, I noticed a flashing red light on my arm.

"Aw, crap," I mumbled. "Luthor." I sighed, retrieved my equipment, and went back out into the real world.

The Key took me inside Society headquarters, where my sudden appearance nearly gave Sonar a heart attack.

"Watch yourself, bud," I said, holding back a laugh from the expression of shock and surprise on his face. "Real villain coming through." He started to say something in return, but I had already walked away.

I found Lex Luthor in the command center, staring at a bank of video screens. His back was toward me, but he swung around as I came through the doors.

"Hi, Lex," I said in a mock cheerful voice. "Where's the party?"

"Prometheus," he answered. "How did your mission go?"

A complete success," I replied. "Hush is dead, and he didn't go easy."

"I already know that, no thanks to you." Luthor's voice carried an edge. "You were supposed to report back here as soon as you were finished. I should not have had to summon you."

Lex was smart, I'll give him that, but he is also a complete control freak. I felt my temper bristle, and lightning danced across my helmet.

"I don't like being called into the principal's office, Luthor," I said, low and hard. "You might lord it over most of these chumps, but I'm not one of them."

He rounded on me, eyes blazing and bald head shining in the florescent lighting. "In case you've forgotten, there are a lot of super-powered people out there who would love to get their hands on you," he said. "We offered you protection. In return, you will adhere to our rules. Otherwise, that protection may be withdrawn."

I had heard enough. "Fuck you, Luthor," I said, jabbing a finger at him. "I joined your little club because it was in my best interest. Mine. Threaten me again , and you'll regret it. Screw me over, and I'll come back and do you cold, hard and messy."

"Don't flatter yourself," said Luthor through narrowed eyes. Suddenly, he straightened. "Despite our considerable differences, our ultimate goal is the same. The destruction of the self-righteous 'heroes'. We should keep that in mind while working together."

I let out a breath and drew back from the brink. "Fair enough, Lex," I said. "Keep in touch." I turned on my heel and marched toward the exit. At the door, I stopped. "Luthor. One more thing. Send someone after me, and I'll return their head to you in a box." A beat of silence passed.

"Ass," I whispered as I took my leave.

"Ass," said Lex Luthor under his breath as he eyed the back of his associate.

Elsewhere:

"Do you think it will work?"

"If we hype it enough, he will show."

"Money is not a problem. I inherited all of dad's estate. Whatever it takes."

Feathers rustled. "Now we need bait. It can't be one of us, and it can't be one of the top tier."

"How about Booster?" asked a man surrounded by a soft green glow. "I'm sure he will do it."

"Good choice. Ask him."

"What about the key?" asked a woman.

"I have taken care of that. Hector will be at hand."

"I want to make sure of this. I'd feel better if we had a wild card. A powerful one."

"I know just the one."

"Who?"

"Another friend of Fire."

"Okay, let's do it."


	2. Chapter 2

A few days later:

I had taken up temporary residence in Keystone City. The house I has sought refuge in belonged to Congressman Thomas Burke. He was away on the nation's business in Washington D.C. His wife, the beautiful and much younger Cynthia Burke, had elected to stay behind during this legislative session. She was currently upstairs in the master bedroom with a needle dangling out of her arm. Cynthia had fought the first few hits of smack very admirably, but the addiction was starting to get it's hooks into her now. When she awoke, I planned another round of amateur pornography to go along with the already thick file I had compiled with Mrs. Burke. The conservative voters of Keystone would no doubt be shocked and dismayed if these revelations of drug abuse and extramarital sex ever found its way to the public. Blackmail was a dirty business, but one for which I have quite a knack.

I was poured into one of those luxury recliners, flipping through the television channels with the remote control. One of the reasons I take these little mini-vacations is because television reception is horrible inside the Ghost Zone, and I like to catch a game every now and then.

My attention was waning, but one of the talking head cable news shows suddenly made me sit up in my seat. The reporter was babbling about the dedication of a new JLA museum in Star City. The bleached-blond dimwit in front of the camera stood in front of two covered statues. She breathlessly told the audience the statues were purported to be new renderings of those fallen heroes, Green Arrow and Green Lantern, who had fallen in the line of duty while defending Star City. Before the news feed shifted back to some other piece of fluff, the reporter informed everyone that former JLA member Booster Gold would be attending the grand opening of the museum, scheduled a mere three days from today.

I ground my teeth in frustration as I clicked the television off. I had killed those two emerald bozos, and now they were being honored with a museum. Hell, they'd probably have a parade. It was too much to tolerate. I decided to crash the party, and show everyone exactly what I thought of their "heroes" and their museum. Booster Gold would make a fitting sacrifice to the folly of placing these costumed fascists up on a pedestal.

Possibilities and plans of attack were already running through my mind as I gathered up everything I had in Congressman Burke's home. His wife I left alone. She would soon have her own problems. I clicked the Cosmic Key and went home.

Three days later:

A good crowd had gathered for the museum's opening ceremonies. On the raised platform in front of the arched entry way was seated the mayor, several city council members, other assorted dignitaries, and Booster Gold, smiling like an idiot.

I had cloaked myself, and taken up a position behind the stage. I let the politicians yammer away into the microphone. I just shook my head when the mayor revealed the name of the museum would be the "Hall of Justice". Someone would die for that, I promised myself. Security around the event was light, but there was also a heavy media presence.

As the speeches began to wind down, I moved towards the stairs at the back of the stage. I slowly ascended as the mayor introduced Booster Gold. By the time he made his way to the podium, I was only a few feet away. Booster waved to the crowd, and the thought of turning all of those adoring cheers into screams sent a buzz down my spine.

I inched forward as Booster began his spiel. Reaching down into an inner pocket. I withdrew a present I had cooked up for just this occasion. I palmed and then activated the device.

Booster Gold's power is derived from his costume, which he brought with him from the 25th century. It was advanced compared to early 21st century technology. Unfortunately for Booster, he had been in enough tough battles that his suit had suffered considerable damage. He had been forced to make most of the repairs with available technology. That four century gap was an opportunity I was prepared to exploit.

I sidled up next to him, then switched off my cloak. My flair for the dramatic is a weakness, but I can't help myself. It adds to the fun. Booster started as I appeared, and the momentary lapse allowed me to slap my weapon onto his chest. A pressure sensor at the impact point activated the homemade immobilizer.

A minor electromagnetic pulse blossomed from Booster's midsection. His suit tried to absorb the energy, but the looping pulses fed on each other, and quickly became too strong. The surge shorted out many of his systems. I had to jump back to keep the feedback from affecting my own computerized programs. I flicked on my energized nightstick and waited for Booster Gold to crash.

He wobbled then sank to his knees with a strangled cry. I raised the nightstick above my head and prepared to bring it down upon Booster's rather empty head, thus putting him out of my misery. I think I was smiling at the time.

The fatal strike never fell. When the stick was raised to its apex, an arrow thanked into my helmet, right in the plate covering my forehead. It did not penetrate the armor, but my head snapped back under the impact.

I looked across the way and saw Connor Hawke, Green Arrow Jr., emerge from the shadows, another arrow already notched and ready to fire. He wasn't alone. One by one they appeared, shuffling forward like a squadron of deranged fundamentalists out to put an end to my fun. Connor was next to Black Canary. Guy Gardner, now a Green Lantern again, was busy ringing the crowd away to safety. Hawkman stood front and center, carrying both a big fucking mace and a grim look under his beak.

History united all of us. I had killed Oliver Queen and Kendra Saunders. Thanks to me, Hal Jordan was a comatose vegetable, and Fire was severely disfigured for life. Apparently, their friends and loved ones had come to try and even the score.

I kicked Booster Gold in the head, and sent him sprawling across the ground. "Come on, Carter," I said addressing Hawkman, "Is this the best you could do?" I smiled and accessed the Richard Dragon fighting programs in my helmet, just in case. "An archer, a third-rate Green Lantern, a time-tossed loser, and one very pretty bird." I reached up to click the Cosmic Key and return to the Ghost Zone. "Better luck next time." I twisted the key…and nothing happened, to my great surprise. My shock must have showed, because when I looked up, Hawkman was grinning.

"There will be no escape for you this time, villain. Your reckoning is at hand."

The voice came from behind me. I whirled and saw the golden helmed Dr. Fate floating above me. I hate magic, and this sorcerer was using it to block my escape. I gnashed my teeth and turned back toward the group of heroes. Gardner had finished getting the civilians to safety and had returned, hovering above the others.

"Okay," I said. "We'll do this the hard way." I assumed a fighting stance I had never used before. "Come on."


	3. Caught!

"I'm going to enjoy this," said Hawkman. "I'm going to enjoy this very much." He nodded at the others and gestured in my direction.

Green Arrow let fly with his bow. I swatted the incoming arrow away with my nightstick, then broke another feathered shaft the same way.

Black Canary stepped forward and cut loose with her vaunted "canary cry". The sonic attack did nothing to me because of the automatic sound dampeners installed in my helmet. When noise levels reached dangerous levels, they immediately filter them down to a manageable level.

I shook my finger at the assembled heroes. "Not nearly good enough, losers," I said. "And with him," I added, pointing upward to Dr. Fate, "busy with keeping the area sealed, you don't have enough power to stop me." If Fate dropped his concentration for even a second, the Key would whisk me back to the Ghost Zone.

A large green fist slammed into my side. The force of the blow knocked me to the ground. Nothng was broken, but I was going to be sore in the morning. Guy Gardner flew over to me.

"Let me show you something about power," he said. "I'm not sure how you took out Jordan, but I'm going to peel you like a grape."

I struggled to me feet. "You could ask him yourself," I said, "but I don't think he will be in any shape to answer you." The brief verbal exchange gave me the opportunity to slip my hand into another inner pocket. I withdrew it just as a green sledgehammer plowed into my chest. I was hurled backward almost twenty-five feet. The armor woven into my costume took the brunt of the hit, but it still hurt. I looked up and saw Gardner begin to come forward. I smiled weakly and sat up. The device I had taken out of my pocket was still in my hand. For that, I breathed a sigh of relief to the gods of Chaos. It didn't last long.

An emerald hangman's noose cinched tight around my neck. I was yanked up into the air, my feet dangling about three feet off the ground. I looked down out of the corner of one eye to see Gardner standing on the ground with a smug look on his face.

"You're done, punk," he said.

Not quite yet, I thought. I had once stolen and studied an Oan power ring when I was member of the Injustice Gang. Using that information, Luthor had devised a way of severing the ring from it's power source, and used it against Kyle Rayner. The kid eventually overcame the stoppage, and the Gang was disbanded. As a member of the Society, I had access to all kinds of bad guy ideas and technology, although I had to hack into Lex's personal files to get the nullification plans. Modified by my own tech and some plundered Apocalyptian gear owned by the Society, I had rigged this neat little device together. I just hoped it worked. With at least half a dozen Green Lanterns hovering around the Earth at any one time, a body could not be too careful.

I pressed a button on the device in my hand. Suddenly free, I dropped to the ground. Gardner stared at me, then looked at his ring. It didn't even spark.

"How? How did you…?

"Aw, Guy, an idiot like you wouldn't even begin to understand." I took one step and side kicked him in the gut. He bent over in a whoosh of air, and I executed a perfect roundhouse kick to the temple. Guy Gardner dropped like a bag of rocks.

I glanced up at the remaining heroes. "Now your strongest is down," I said. "How can you hope to prevail?" In answer to mostly rhetorical question, they bum-rushed me. Green Arrow and Black Canary on the ground, while Hawkman took to the air. I smiled a crooked smile as my combat programs fed me possible vectors of attack and appropriate countermeasures.

Arrow and Canary reached me first. Both of them are elite martial artists at the peak of human conditioning. However, they are still confined to basic human strength and stamina. I tagged Connor to be the better fighter, but Canary to be more experienced. I swung the nightstick in a mid-level horizontal arc. Canary dipped below it, while Arrow jumped back out of range. I snapped a kick at Canary, but she rolled away. Connor charged in from the side with a flurry of punches. I blocked them, and jumped over an attempted foot sweep by Canary. Richard Dragon is one hell of a fighter, I thought. We battled back and forth, each a blur of kicks and punches, strikes and counterstrikes.

"Go for his helmet," yelled Black Canary.

A sound strategy, I thought, but I was not stupid. My helmet would always be a target. When both heroes went for head strikes, I ducked, and went to a knee. Striking outward, I forced them both to back up, Canary the farthest because of the nightstick. I rolled toward her, and raised my gauntlet toward Green Arrow. I fired a polymer-coated projectile at center mass. He dodged the fatal blow, but just barely. The bullet impacted Green Arrow's chest, and I saw blood blossom before he was flung backwards. To his credit, he did not scream.

Not slowing to savor my triumph, because I knew Hawkman would come barreling down as soon as he saw what happened, I faced Black Canary. She spared a single glance at Connor, which gave me the opening I needed. I lunged forward with the 'stick, which she barely dodged. That move was only a distraction as I immediately followed the feint with a punishing uppercut to the liver. I reversed the nightstick, and busted her across the chops with the butt end. Canary staggered, and I cracked across the back of the skull with the 'stick. She fell face first onto the earth.

I heard the heavy whoosh of wings, and turned. Hawkman slammed into me, knocking me to the ground. I rolled as he settled down a few feet away. He looked at Green Arrow and Canary to see if they were still alive.

"I haven't killed them yet, Carter," I said. "My plan is to cripple you and then to kill them. I want to see just how much grief and guilt you can take." He growled at me. I had fought Hawkman before. This was not going to be easy. If I shot him, it would probably just piss him off even more.

He launched himself at me. I popped along, thin blade out of my gauntlet. Timing was everything. If he connected solid with that big fucking mace, I might be done. The Nth metal Hawkman used gave him enhanced strength. His mace probably weighed a hundred pounds or more. He swung, and I dodged, plunging the knife into his side as he passed. First blood to me, but it wouldn't be nearly enough.

Carter did not even acknowledge the wound. He turned and came back around. I let him come closer. I cycled up a tranquilizer dart from my gauntlet, a good one with some powerful and fast acting drugs in it. Hawkman swung again, and missed. I shot him with the dart.

A massive blow hit me in the back. Carter had caught me with a backswing. The nature of the move was not as forceful as a frontal technique, but it was enough to send me sprawling and rattle my teeth. I picked myself up, as Hawkman drew out the tranq dart and pitched it away. That mace had to go.

He came forward again. Screw it, I thought. I brought up another polymer bullet and shot him in the shoulder. The Nth metal would heal him quickly, so I had to end this faster. I went to club him in the head with the nightstick. He blocked it with the mace. The weapons met in a shower of sparks. I kicked him in the leg, and he went down to a knee.

I felt a sudden pain in my side, and looked down to see Hawkman twist a dagger. His strength and the sharpness of the blade had been enough to penetrate my armor.

I whacked him in the head with my club. He fell forward, shook his head and struggled to rise.

"Hector is about to become an orphan," I said. I raised the nightstick again to deliver the killing stroke.

A sonic boom jangled my eardrums. Cold realization cut through my pain and bloodlust. In my business, a sonic boom usually means a heavy hitter has entered the fray. I whirled and scanned the area. I made visual contact while she was still a dot in the sky.

"Oh, no," I whispered. On the ground, Carter began to laugh.

She came so fast, I had no time to react. Even if I did, I don't know what I could have done. She plucked me from the ground and hauled me into the air so quickly I could hardly keep my breath.

Mary Marvel. This was Hawkman's ace. The Marvels were Superman-class powerhouses, and Mary had been a friend and teammate of Booster, Fire, and Guy. She didn't look happy to see me.I thumbed the nightstick to full power and swung as hard as I could. It hit her full in the face. I like to think she may have felt it.

She stopped flying and simply tore my helmet from my head. She crushed it in her fist and let it fall to the ground. Her next blow chopped down on my wrist, breaking the bones, shattering a gauntlet and forcing me to drop my weapon. I bit back a scream, and raised my other arm. I shot her in the head with one of the polymer bullets. It had no effect, except to make her really mad.

The last thing I remember is seeing stars as her fist connected with the side of my head.

Epilogue:

I awoke in a place I had seen before, the medical infirmary at the Slab, a prison exclusively for metas or guys like me. Once I had healed enough, they placed me in an isolation cell. In the few times I was let out, I was always trussed up like Hannibal Lector.

The Slab is a stressful place to work, and guards regularly took out their frustrations on the prisoners. I was often beaten, and not a day went by that someone didn't hit me. They were being much more diligent about my confinement than the last time. The warden didn't take well to escapes, I guess. I dreamed almost every night of black ravens with fiery eyes and old souls.

One day, a guard stood outside my cell. He stared at me. "You don't look so tough," he said. I just lay there and counted dots on the ceiling . The guard started to walk away. "Hey dirtbag," he said. "You dropped something."

I looked over, because I didn't have anything to drop. A piece of paper lay on the floor. I quickly went over to pick it up and returned to my bunk. I carefully opened it. It read:

P-

Be ready to move, We will be coming soon. Hope you had a nice time.

L.

"Ass," I whispered, then ate the note. I would be glad to get out of here, but owing Luthor may not be worth the price. I lay back again and whistled a happy tune.

DA END


End file.
